


Curse That Falls

by DhampirsDrinkEspresso



Series: Monstrous [3]
Category: She-Wolf of London (1946), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Wolf Man (1941)
Genre: About as Accurate as a non-researched Monster Movie, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Betrothal contracts, Biting, Blades, Blood, But the Movies are from the 40s, Curses, F/M, Garden Implement as Weapon, Gaslighting, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Sex, Inaccurate History I'm Sure, Letter Opener as Weapon, Mentions of Werewolf Sex, Monsters, Murder, Nightmares, No Male Heirs, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Probably also Very Inaccurate Take on the Aristocracy, RFR Songfic Challenge, RFR Songfic Challenge October 2020, Sleepwalking, Universal Monsters Tribute, Vague Time Period, Violence, Werewolves, mention of child death, no one gets shot, threat of gun violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27061099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DhampirsDrinkEspresso/pseuds/DhampirsDrinkEspresso
Summary: Six months ago, Rey was a no one, living in Wales and not-so-secretly in love with Ben Solo, disgraced son of a local aristocratic family. Then her family found her, at long last...but not the one she expected. Now she will be forced to marry a man of her aunt's choosing, assuming the "Curse of the Allenbys” doesn't take her first. When the attacks start near the estate, it's looking like the curse will win. What a terrible time for Ben to tumble back into her life.(A Reylo Wolf Man/She-Wolf of London crossover AU)
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Monstrous [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964857
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46
Collections: RFR Songfic Challenge





	1. When the Wolf-Bane Blooms

**Author's Note:**

> **The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress  
>  Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest  
> The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
> I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground**
> 
> **And howl**
> 
> **Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
>  Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters**
> 
> **A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night  
>  May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright**
> 
> **If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
>  I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free  
> The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
> I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground**
> 
> [~*~Howl, Florence and the Machine~*~](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZweDwbJ_Ic)
> 
> Inspired by The Wolf Man and She-Wolf of London, and there may be a few nods to other werewolf films as well. For additional song inspiration, see the [ Monstrous series playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/04kCYPEWoFs0LlJJ27YJoq?si=Cs-9PfWWS5yI1zsA3TW6QQ)tracks 9-13.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey was a nobody, living happily in Wales with her self-appointed guardian Maz, working at Maz’s shop Castle Antiques to earn her keep. She sold her favorite walking stick—overly long with a heavy, silver wolf’s head ornamental handle—to Ben Solo, formerly estranged nephew of Maz’s friend Luke—Viscount Skywalker—and it was the start of something beautiful. At least until the night _something_ attacked them as Ben walked her home. 
> 
> _The wind picked up again, whistling and howling around them—or maybe that was the wolf. She turned and took a clumsy step, freezing in place at the growl, much closer this time and in front of her. Moonlight broke through the cloud cover again, and Rey scrambled back, falling hard onto her backside and continuing to scoot back on her bottom as the creature approached._
> 
> _It was…_ wrong _somehow. Too big, limbs bent oddly as if it were meant for two legs rather than four, and the fur and eyes—maybe it was a trick of the light, the way the moon had made the flowers look silver, but they looked…off. Blue eyes and sandy blond fur. It took a step, back arched in that odd way and Rey gasped, pushing with her feet to get away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hope you have got your things together  
>  Hope you are quite prepared to die  
> Looks like we're in for nasty weather  
> One eye is taken for an eye**
> 
> **So don't come 'round tonight**   
>  **It's bound to take your life**   
>  **There's a bad moon on the rise**
> 
> [ ~Bad Moon Rising, Rasputina (cover)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9KchCouIjI)

**_~*~Allenby Manor, London, England~*~_ **

“But I’m nobody!” Rey said again in protest, overwhelmed at the very idea this woman was presenting.

“Foolish nonsense, girl. Your mother—my sister—was an Allenby, and _you_ are an Allenby, no matter who your no-count father may have been.”

Rey bristled, feeling defensive of the parents she barely remembered and never really _knew._ She bit her tongue though, her response washed down with the blood she drew as the woman—her aunt, she supposed—continued.

Rey's mother had been the first born, heir to the Allenby estate and fortune, as no male child had survived to adulthood. She’d fallen in love with the bastard son of the old man on the neighboring estate and the two had run off and married in secret, swearing never to return.

Of course her aunt kept forgetting the love and marriage part, more focused on her mother “abandoning her duty” and the fact that Rey’s father had been illegitimate.

Her cousin wasn’t much better. Bazine was…well, she was mean, really, that was all there was to it. It had gotten worse since Aunt Phasma had decided Rey needed to marry—immediately. Bazine was the elder, and until only a few short months ago, the heir apparent to everything Allenby.

“Go dress yourself in something appropriate and neaten your hair. Lord Ren will be arriving any moment. It simply will not do to meet your betrothed looking like _that_.” Aunt Phasma ordered. As she turned for the staircase, Rey didn’t miss the glare Bazine shot her. Her cousin’s hatred for her was at least partly due to the fact that the betrothal contract with Lord Ren specified he was to wed the Allenby Heiress. Until six months ago, that had appeared to be Bazine.

Rey dressed with little care to how she looked, longing for Wales and Maz and the antique shop. And _him._

**_~*~Six Months Prior, Wales~*~_ **

Ben Solo had come into her life quietly, stepping into the shop looking for Maz. He’d looked at Rey and gone silent, lips pressed firmly together and jaw ticking. At the time she had believed he was somehow offended by her presence, angered that a penniless orphan would dare have the gall to speak to him.

Later he claimed he had simply been awestruck, that he had known in that instant they were destined to meet.

At the time, he glared and spun on his heel, pausing beside the door at a display of canes and walking sticks with fanciful and ornate toppers. He’d removed his gloves, fingers tracing the ears of an overly large silver wolf’s head, his own overly large hand making the heavy ornament seem almost comically small. Until that very moment, Rey had believed that particular item had been made too large on purpose, long and heavy and with a top that no one could possibly hold. Despite that—or maybe because of it—the wolf’s head walking stick had always been her favorite.

Slowly, he pulled the walking stick from the display, turned and crossed the room again with purpose and she couldn’t help but notice how the shoulder seams of his jacket and the buttons of his waistcoat strained, as if tailored to a man a size smaller and then forced to contain his massive frame under penalty of…something terrible, she was sure.

“I’ll take this,” he said gruffly, less like he was angry and more as if he were not accustomed to speaking to anyone. He was holding the walking stick like it had been made specifically for him.

Rey blinked up at him, caught off guard and embarrassed to have been so blatantly staring at him (not that he seemed to have noticed). “Of course, sir. Would you like to know the price first?”

His eyes widened and she flushed, realizing her mistake. He didn’t let her apologize, something in him relaxing and he smiled.

Oh.

That was nice.

No. _Bad._ That was _bad._

Because that smile transformed his face into something completely other and Rey’s breath caught in her throat as even his eyes seemed lighter for a moment. She was _lost._

“Charge it to my uncle’s account. Add fifty pounds. Call it a service fee.”

“Your uncle?”

His lips twitched in something she suspected was _almost_ another smile and he nodded once, head dipping down in a way that made his glossy hair—unfashionably long—drop down over his eyes. He handed her his card, and she stared at the paper in her hand. Calling cards were certainly outdated, but Rey had an appreciation for old things. After all, she loved working in the antique shop and helping Maz, her boss and self-appointed guardian, acquire pieces with character. “You…you’re Ben?”

Finally, _finally_ , it was his turn to be obviously surprised. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Of course! Every Thursday at tea, you’re all Luke and Maz have been talking about. It’s been weeks.”

He seemed stunned. “You…you’re Maz’s Rey, then. I apologize. I should have realized…”

“You thought I was a boy, didn’t you?”

He looked away, ran a hand through his hair, uncovering the top of one ear—one bright-red ear that made Rey think of the family portraits Luke took such great pride in showing off. “Perhaps,” he muttered.

She laughed and pretended not to notice the spots of red coloring his face when he looked at her again. He completed his purchase, signing with a flourish and leaving with the wolf’s head walking stick. It was the perfect length for him.

He came back.

Every day.

Once he had relaxed enough to truly converse with her, Ben was surprisingly charming for someone who had turned out to be a son of nobility, titled in his own right and wealthier than she could possibly have dreamed.

Rey sold him a brooch for his mother’s birthday, a silver dip pen she herself had lovingly and painstakingly restored, a selection of silk handkerchiefs, and a sword in need of sharpening and a good polish. All of it he insisted she mark up with a fee of some sort, before charging it to Luke’s account.

Every time he lingered just a bit longer, sometimes talking to her and sometimes just quietly watching her work on cleaning and even restoring whatever finds she and Maz had most recently brought into the shop. Eventually Ben gave up on the pretense of making a purchase, admitting he simply wanted to see her, that he enjoyed her company.

The first day he nervously asked if he might see her home safely, she had been so happy she thought she might burst.

The man was actually _courting_ her.

He had to be.

It became a habit. He would arrive at the shop an hour or two before closing, sometimes helping Rey with whatever task she was intent on completing before closing, others he simply wandered the displays or sat quietly in a corner while she assisted the occasional customer. He even began joining them for tea on Thursday, sitting across from his uncle Luke and balancing delicate teacups that looked like a child’s playset in his hands. He didn’t speak much then, usually didn’t involve himself in their conversations at all, but he always insisted on walking Rey and Maz back to Maz’s small cottage not far from the shop.

One Thursday in October, Ben met them in the drive, apologizing for his forgetfulness in not sending a message. Luke was ill and had asked Ben to cancel their weekly tea, but he had failed to do so, he said, too distracted in making certain his uncle had all he needed. Rey had immediately begun asking what she could do to help, if Luke needed anything, and she was confused and surprised when both Ben _and_ Maz had vehemently refused any help from Rey and rushed her away.

They walked home quickly, Maz actually outpacing them even though she was by far the shortest of the trio. Ben seemed nervous, looking over his shoulder constantly at the cloud-covered moon. “Are you worried about rain?” she asked, wondering if maybe he was concerned she and Maz would catch cold if caught in a sudden downpour.

Ben blinked at her and licked his lips, giving a stiff nod. “Ah, yes, that’s…yes, just concerned for your health, especially with Uncle Luke not feeling well.” The wind blew, shifting the clouds and allowing the silvery moonlight to fall along the narrow path they had taken. Ben’s head jerked around, something like fear tightening his face, but Rey was distracted by what the light revealed.

“Oh, so pretty!” she breathed, bending down. Flowers, so many flowers, somehow magically sprung up beside the path in every shade of purple she could imagine, from a deep almost-black aubergine to a pale lavender that looked more silvery-white in the moonlight.

“ _Aconite,_ ” Maz hissed, as Rey reached out to touch a bloom, entranced by the blossom.

“NO!” Ben grabbed her hand, shouting practically in her face as he dragged her back onto the path. Oh, Rey hadn’t realized she had wandered so far. He was breathing hard as he stammered an apology for raising his voice. “Ah, it’s poisonous,” he said by way of explanation, glancing over his shoulder yet again as his hand tightened on her arm.

“I wasn’t planning on _eating_ them, Ben. I just…they’re pretty.” She shrugged and pulled away from him, walking a little more quickly than usual to catch up to Maz where the elderly woman had paused to wait for them.

_“Even a man who is pure in heart, and says his prayers by night;_

_May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.”_

Rey looked at Maz in confusion, not recognizing the poem. She opened her mouth to ask when a howl pierced the night.

Clouds covered the moon again and the black of night fell around them.

It wasn’t usually this dark, was it? Not on the path home.

Something moved nearby. Something large.

A low growl rolled out from the darkness.

Maz grabbed Rey’s arm and she yelped. “Run, girl, straight home and lock the door and don’t open it for _anyone_ , not even me, do you hear?”

“What are you—”

“No time, do as I say!” She gave Rey a shove, surprisingly strong for her small stature and advanced age.

The wind picked up again, whistling and howling around them—or maybe that was the wolf. She turned and took a clumsy step, freezing in place at the growl, much closer this time and _in front of her_. Moonlight broke through the cloud cover again, and Rey scrambled back, falling hard onto her backside and continuing to scoot back on her bottom as the creature approached.

It was… _wrong_ somehow. Too big, limbs bent oddly as if it were meant for two legs rather than four, and the fur and eyes—maybe it was a trick of the light, the way the moon had made the flowers look silver, but they looked…off. Blue eyes and sandy blond fur. It took a step, back arched in that odd way and Rey gasped, pushing with her feet to get away.

The wolf tensed, bracing to spring, and Rey screamed.

Everything happened at once.

Rey screamed as the creature jumped at her. Maz shouted something in one of the multitude of languages she seemed to know, throwing…a handful of flowers? And Ben was just suddenly there in between Rey and the wolf, brandishing his walking stick, swinging it as the animal snarled and shrank back before attempting another leap.

She must have blacked out, because she woke back in the cottage, Maz sitting by her bedside and patting at Rey’s face and neck with a cool cloth. The autumn sun streamed through the open window and Maz hummed as she rocked slowly back and forth.

“What happened?”

“Hush, now, child. You need your rest.”

Rey struggled to sit up. “Ben, is he okay? The wolf, did it hurt him?”

Maz made a sound of displeasure and leaned back in her chair, studying Rey from behind the thick lenses of her spectacles. “What do you remember?”

Rey made a face but humored the woman who had appointed herself Rey’s new family when no others could be found. “I…there was a wolf? I think? And it attacked us. You threw flowers at it, and Ben was trying to run it off with his walking stick.”

Maz studied her. “Well, I suppose you should be a little confused. You hit your head on a rock when you stumbled.” Rey stared at her, incredulous. Was Maz really trying to convince her it hadn’t happened? “There was a dog, one of the herders from the Connix farm went rabid. You and I had been picking flowers and we dropped them when it ran at us. Ben hit it with the cane, before it could get to us and it…ran off.”

Maz’s tone and the look on her face made clear the subject was closed.

_Why was she lying?_

**_~*~Allenby Manor, London, England~*~_ **

A knock at the door broke Rey out of her memories. She hadn’t seen Ben again after that night. He had to leave for his mother’s estate, some sort of emergency, and then Aunt Phasma’s solicitors had found Rey and dragged her to London.

She’d been excited at first, overwhelmed that she had family, _any_ family, still living and they wanted her around. Within only days the overwhelm had been for vastly different reasons. She glanced in the mirror and attempted to smooth her hair. Aunt Phasma wouldn’t be pleased, although Rey couldn’t find it within herself to care overly much. She was just bored of the constant whinging and beratement. She wanted to go _home._

The knock sounded again, and a voice called out from the other side of the heavy wood. “Lady Margerey? Are you well?”

Rey opened the door and smiled at the maid in the hallway. “Yes, thank you, I am. Please inform my aunt I shall join her momentarily.” The maid dipped in an automatic curtsey and hurried away. Rey really wished they would all stop doing that. She was nobody special, they needn’t go to the trouble.

She smoothed her hair once more, took a deep breath, and left her room, closing the door firmly behind her and pocketing the key after she locked it.

“Ah, Margerey, darling, how lovely of you to join us! I know you have felt unwell, dear.” Rey schooled her expression before looking up at her aunt and forcing a tight smile onto her face. “Come along, sit by me,” Phasma insisted, and patted the empty spot on the chaise as the man across from her moved stiffly and stood…and stood. Why, surely, he must be as tall as—

He turned to face her.

— _BEN._

Rey stumbled and he reached out automatically, catching her by the elbow and holding her steady on her feet, face twisting in a pained grimace as he looked away, hiding from her.

It was too late, though. She had seen him, seen _them._ Scars. A long, ragged claw mark marred his face, trailing down under his collar.

“ _Margerey, do not be rude,”_ Aunt Phasma hissed.

Rey ignored her, reaching out, stepping indecently close as she pressed her palm to his face, traced the worst of the scarring. “Is this why you left without saying goodbye?”

He nodded, eyes closed as he still refused to look at her. Her aunt sputtered and his face twisted in annoyance.

“Ben? Did you think I would care? Think less of you?”

He still wouldn’t look at her and Phasma was starting to squawk about impropriety behind her. That was too much for him to ignore, apparently, and his eyes snapped open, burning with fury. “Leave us,” he growled, and for once it seemed someone else had the upper hand over Phasma Allenby-Netal. She stormed from the room, letting the door slam behind her.

Some tension leaked out of Ben and he allowed himself to look at her. There was so _much_ in his gaze, like a physical weight tugging at her, and it was Rey’s turn to look away.

“So, Lord Ren, eh? Betrothed from childhood to the Allenby Heiress, despite the fact that _no one_ does that anymore. Engaged and still chasing after me. All this time, and I really knew nothing about you.” She turned away, arms crossed over her middle, hugging tight to hold everything inside. She couldn’t break. She _wouldn’t._

“Rey, no…it’s not…”

His hand touched her shoulder and she jerked away with an angry cry.

“It isn’t like that. I…yes, there was a betrothal. It’s unusual these days but not completely unheard of, arrangements between families. They aren’t…they’re not binding, before adulthood. It’s just an understanding.”

“An _understanding?_ Really _Lord Ren_? Because I don’t _understand_ any of this. You didn’t even trust me enough to know you were injured— _saving me!_ And now I find out all this time you’ve been _engaged_ to my cousin!” She spun around, facing him again, as she ranted. “So no, there is no _understanding_ here.” She stepped closer, embracing the anger, using it to force down the hurt as another possibility occurred to her. “Or did you know? You said it’s not binding. Did you know who I was when you met me? All that time we spent together, you waiting in the shop, walking me home, Thursday tea, was it all an act so that I would agree?”

“What? Rey, no! Never! I wouldn’t—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair angrily, tugging a few strands loose. “I didn’t…Rey I came here tonight to exercise my option to void the contract. Nothing was official yet with Bazine, and then when I found out the Allenby Heiress had been found I thought…well I believed it was the perfect chance to be done with all of this.” He stepped forward, grasping her hands lightly, thumbs massaging over her wrists. “Rey, I never wanted any of this, not the titles or the money, definitely not the responsibility. It’s why I was estranged from my mother and uncle for so long, why I lived in America with my father. Then he died and my uncle reached out and…and I met you. Rey, I came here to cancel the betrothal so I could come back to you if—” he glanced away, swallowing several times and jaw clenching. “If you’ll have me.”

She gasped, hands flexing against him, trying to return his hold. He must have thought she was trying to pull away, rejecting him, because he dropped her hands and stepped back quickly, eyes trained on the toes of his shoes. She tumbled forward, hands fumbling at his arms until she clutched at _his_ wrists. He looked at her then, seemingly horrified by what he saw. “Don’t cry, please, Rey, sweetheart, don’t cry.”

She sucked in a breath, choking back what may have been a laugh or a sob, she wasn’t certain. “You stupid, _stupid_ man,” she muttered, releasing one of his wrists to reach up and wrap her hand around the back of his neck. “ _If_ I’ll have you,” she muttered with an angry sniff as she pulled him down, and then she was kissing him and it was…utterly disgusting, really, with tears and what she hoped was just an abundance of saliva but when she tried to pull away he made a sound closer to animal growl than human speech and clutched her closer.


	2. She's Done Me In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey begins sleepwalking and having nightmares. Then "animal attacks" are reported in the area. Believing she is somehow involved due to the Curse of the Allenbys, she tries to break off the engagement, but Ben is resistant.
> 
> _The nightmares came again, of something large stalking her through the darkness and confusing images of claws and teeth and something hot and wet on her skin._
> 
> _She woke as the weak sunlight filtered through the window, feeling feverish and sticky with sweat. She must have become overheated and stripped off her nightgown, tossing it away somewhere._
> 
> _The normally too-soft sheets abraded her skin and she rolled onto her back with a groan and blinked up at the ceiling a few times until her vision cleared._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The sun is rising, the screams have gone  
>  Too many have fallen, few still stand tall  
> Is this the ending of what we've begun?  
> Will we remember what we've done wrong?  
> When we start killing  
> It's all coming down right now  
> From the nightmare we've created  
> I want to be awakened somehow**
> 
> [~The Howling, Within Temptation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bqRn0rLq1c)
> 
> Please see the tags for reminders and updates. Several more were added. 
> 
> This chapter is more heavily She-Wolf of London influenced whereas chapter one was more shaped by the Wolf Man than She-Wolf of London. That movie is...more messed up than I remembered. 
> 
> Again, don't look for any kind of accuracy here as far as history, geography, the aristocracy, or anything else. Think of this as a horror movie alternate universe...I wasn't kidding about the tag saying this is as accurate as a non-researched monster movie...

**_~*~Allenby Manor, London, England~*~_ **

Bazine had been less than pleased at the news that the betrothal was still on. Apparently she and Aunt Phasma had known that was the reason Ben had come calling. They just hadn’t bothered to tell Rey.

Aunt Phasma, at least, pretended to be pleased at the prospect, claiming she had known all along that “Meeting Lady Margerey would change Lord Ren’s mind” about voiding the contract.

Something didn’t quite ring true, though. Her smile was too wide, eyes too narrow, jaw too tight. Phasma didn’t want this marriage anymore than Bazine did. Although, assuming Bazine did fancy herself in love, Rey supposed that all made a sort of sense.

It was nearly two weeks later that Bazine mentioned the family curse. Rey had laughed it off, of course. How silly to believe in magic and curses on family bloodlines…

Right?

But then, Maz had always been making special teas and tinctures, and people came from all around to buy them, laughing about needing extra luck or how only Maz’s teas could cure a cold and ward off chills.

And no matter what she claimed, Rey _knew_ Maz had chanted something and thrown a handful of aconite at the wolf/dog thing.

Ben visited nearly every day, sometimes joining all of them in the parlor or for dinner fraught with tense conversation and strange power games Rey didn’t understand (nor did she wish to). Sometimes he invited her out for a walk, or took her along when calling on some acquaintance of his mother or uncle, always taking great joy and pride in introducing her as his fiancée, and usually leaving out the bits about her being Lady Margerey, the lost Allenby Heiress.

He made certain to tell her any time he had to leave town, and when he would be back, and sent notes and cards and deliveries of little treats or trinkets nearly every day. Rey happened to have a headache the day the flowers came, an interesting assortment in shades of pink and purple: lilies, aconite, lupines, and flowering garlic. Bazine started muttering vague comments about the family curse and ravening, monstrous beasts. Rey snapped at her to either ‘come out with it or stop speaking,’ surprising her aunt and cousin into stunned silence. She also noticed a few quickly stifled laughs and smiles from the staff (biting back a smile of her own when she noticed). She skipped dinner and retired early that night, but slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares of howls and running low to the ground and vague, shaggy outlines silhouetted in the full moon.

Rey awoke the next morning more tired than before she had gone to bed and sore all over. She couldn’t actually tell if the headache was improved or the rest of her body just ached so badly she no longer noticed it separately. It didn’t help that her window was open even though she clearly remembered securing it to keep in the warmth of the fire, and a bit of soil had blown in overnight, leaving a spot on the windowsill almost shaped like a footprint. She must remember to have someone check over the latch during the day.

She groaned and turned over, not ready to be awake, at least not until she recalled that Ben would be back in the afternoon.

The excitement at seeing him again after several days was enough to draw her out from under the covers to wash and dress for the day.

It was laundry day, and one of the maids came in and stripped the bed while she was changing. The girl gasped at something but when Rey inquired as to what was the matter and peeked out from behind her dressing screen, the girl just mumbled an apology and fled the room, basket of linens clutched tightly to her chest.

Ben arrived earlier than expected, just before luncheon, and Rey met him in the parlor, slumping gratefully into his embrace the moment her aunt was out of view. She felt much improved as soon as his arms closed around her and rested her head against his chest with a sigh.

“Feeling poorly, then, my love?” he asked softly, dropping a kiss on her forehead. She nodded weakly and attempted to answer but just couldn’t find the energy to speak. “Maybe it’s the full moon,” he said with a grin and Rey managed a weak laugh.

There was a clatter by the door and they both looked up, finding one of the servants had dropped a decorative vase and was scrambling to pick up the shards, face pale as she trembled and stuttered out an apology. Ben stood and crossed the room quickly and knelt down. “Here, let me help with that. You’ll cut yourself,” he said, gently grasping the girl’s wrist and carefully picking up a shard of the broken glass. “Go and find a broom and dustpan, yes? So you can do this safely.” She couldn’t be certain, but Rey thought the girl might have been crying as she nodded and practically ran from the room. He stood and returned to Rey, shaking his head. “I’m not certain who terrifies that poor girl more: your aunt, your cousin, or me.”

“Maybe it’s me,” Rey mumbled, staring at the rug. All morning the staff had given her strange looks, ranging from pity to outright fear, and gone silent before busying themselves or scurrying away every time Rey entered a room. It was normal to see them treat Phasma and Bazine that way, but none of them had ever feared Rey before.

Ben left earlier than usual, begging off Phasma’s dinner invitation due to travel fatigue. Rey had some tea and toast before retiring for the evening herself (not that it even was evening yet), in bed well before the sun set.

The nightmares came again, of something large stalking her through the darkness and confusing images of claws and teeth and something hot and wet on her skin.

She woke as the weak sunlight filtered through the window, feeling feverish and sticky with sweat. She must have become overheated and stripped off her nightgown, tossing it away somewhere.

The normally too-soft sheets abraded her skin and she rolled onto her back with a groan and blinked up at the ceiling a few times until her vision cleared.

The metallic taste of blood hung in the back of her throat. She must have bitten her tongue. She raised a hand to run it over her face and gasped.

_Blood._

Rey sat up quickly, panic allowing her to ignore the pain and dizziness she felt. Both of her hands were smeared with blood, and her feet…her feet were black with dirt, long streaks of it along the sheets as well.

She washed off the dirt and blood quickly, immensely relieved when she realized her knees and one shin were scraped. That must be where the blood came from. She’d been sleepwalking, she surmised, even though she hadn’t done that in years, and fallen and scraped her knees and bitten her tongue. That was all.

It _must_ be.

She had the linens stripped before one of the house maids came to wake her for breakfast. “I’m so sorry, Tallie, I seem to have cut myself and bloodied the sheets,” Rey said. “If you can fetch clean ones I’m happy to make up the bed myself.”

“Oh, no, Lady Margerey, I couldn’t possibly allow that! I’m happy to help!” The girl’s voice was too high, almost shrill in the early morning. Rey found herself nodding, agreeing if only to calm the girl, worried she’d somehow insulted Tallie by saying she wanted to make the bed herself.

Rey finished dressing for the day, spying a bundle of fabric near the window. Her nightgown. She waited until Tallie was finished with the bed and then locked the door behind the maid, hands trembling as she crossed the room and picked up the once-white fabric.

The hem looked as if it had been dragged through the mud, and sure enough there were spots of blood where it would have hit her knees. Streaks of it, too, all around the neckline—even in back. But most alarming were the long, ragged tears. She hadn’t removed her nightgown, it had been torn off, ripped at the seams by something exceedingly sharp.

She bundled the fabric into a ball and tossed it into the fire, prodding at it with the poker until every thread was gone.

Rey waited until her breathing steadied, until her hands no longer shook, and then left her room to join her aunt and cousin for breakfast.

Aunt Phasma had the Times folded beside her on the table. She liked to read the paper over breakfast, quoting bits of articles to provoke a reaction from Rey which she could then berate her for. At least that was what it felt like…

Bazine glared into her plate as Rey took the seat across from her. Aunt Phasma sat at the head of the table, as always. Rey had just taken a bite of food when Phasma made a pinched face. “Oh dear, there’s been some kind of animal attack not far from here. This suggests the poor man was torn to pieces.”

Rey choked down the bite of breakfast, the food settling like a heavy weight in her stomach. “Apologies Aunt Phasma, Cousin Bazine, it seems I’m still feeling poorly. Perhaps I should return to bed.”

“See that you do, girl. I simply will not have you bringing some plague upon the entire house.”

Rey did her best to ignore her aunt, standing quickly and stumbling a bit as her head swam. Bazine muttered something about curses and fur as she went but Rey was too distraught to pay her any mind.

Ben didn’t make it for a visit that day, his message stating he was under the weather as well. It was for the best, Rey supposed, as she spent the day dozing fitfully herself.

Her eyes snapped open just after sunset and she sat straight up in her bed, eyes darting nervously about the room. She was _certain_ someone had been there only a moment before, standing by the bed. No one. She crept from the bed and checked the window—the latch had been repaired and it was secure. She checked the door next, and it remained locked from the inside. Just a dream, then.

Rey caught herself with a hand against the door as the room seemed to shift and spin about her. Back to bed, she needed to go back to bed and maybe summon a physician in the morning.

She hissed as the muscles in her lower legs cramped. Clearly she’d spent too much time in bed and had too little food and water the past three days.

Her dreams that night were no less disturbing, full of blood and violence and ending with the sensation of something heavy pinning her down.

She woke tangled in the duvet. As previously, her legs and this time her arms and hands were laced with cuts and scratches, her nightgown nowhere to be found. When she had washed away the worst of the mud and blood, she gingerly prodded at the worst of the cuts, trying to ascertain if they required stitching or bandages. She must have moved the wrong way, because there was a sudden twinge of pain at the base of her neck, where it met her right shoulder. She reached back to rub at the sore spot, hissing as it stung and her hand came away spotted with blood. She scrambled for a hand mirror, twisting this way and that in front of the larger mirror at her dressing table until she could see it.

A row of tiny punctures, almost like an animal bite and the deepest of them still oozing blood. She stifled a gasp, numb fingers losing their grip on the hand mirror. Fortunately it landed on the thick rug, somehow not shattering in the process. Rey trembled as she placed it back on the dressing table.

What was happening to her?

A scream from outside drew her to the window. There was a small crowd gathering on the lawn, surrounding someone lying on the ground.

“It was another animal attack,” Aunt Phasma said, voice flat as she relayed the news. One of the gardeners had been out before sunrise, and something had attacked him. The cook had gone into the herb and vegetable garden for some things and found him there, her screams raising the alarm.

“Yes, an _animal_ attack,” Bazine echoed, shooting Rey a chilling smile.

Whatever she’d been planning to say next was interrupted by Tallie, announcing a police inspector was at the door demanding to speak to every resident of the manor.

Inspector Hux was stiff and overly formal, fawning over Rey and her aunt and cousin. Only routine, he assured them, just a call as the incident had happened on the grounds, the victim one of the staff. He offered his condolences, asked if any of them had heard or seen anything, and then asked if he might make use of a room to question the staff. Phasma situated him in her study, and Rey went back to bed.

She changed her own sheets while the staff was distracted, hesitating before tossing them in the fireplace along with the shredded nightgown she found by the window.

Eventually someone would notice the linens and her sleepwear were disappearing, but she needed time.

She needed to know more about the curse.

She needed to call off her engagement, save Ben from whatever was happening to her.

That last one, that was the only task that mattered to her. She didn’t want to do it, but she _had_ to. She loved him too much to bind him to her.

Rey was weak. When Ben came calling just after Inspector Hux finally departed, Rey rushed straight into his arms, all thoughts of ending things put aside.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart. The moment I heard what had happened, all I could think of was getting to you but I simply couldn’t get away.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re here now.” She pressed her ear against his chest, reassured by the steady thud of his heart, the warmth rolling off of him in waves.

He was hesitant when he told her he had to go away for a few weeks, to his uncle’s estate. Rey found herself relieved he would be a safe distance away, and she didn’t broach the topic of their engagement at all. It could wait until he returned.

By the following morning, Rey’s appetite had returned. She suspected it was because she finally managed to sleep through the night without a single nightmare, and if there had been any sleepwalking it had been inside the house.

Ben still kept up with his habit of sending her little gifts or messages each day, and she treasured each one. By the end of the first week, Rey felt almost normal again, and even began laughing at herself for believing in her cousin’s silly claims about a family curse for even a moment.

By the end of the second week, there had been no more animal attacks, and Inspector Hux had returned to personally advise the Allenby family that a rabid dog had been put down the day after the attack on the gardener, and that the case was officially closed.

That night Rey dreamed again, and woke tired but not sore, and there was no dirt tracked in at all so she assumed she still had no repeat of the sleepwalking incidents of two weeks prior.

Bazine was in a foul mood at breakfast, and every time she saw Rey throughout the day she muttered something about the dark of the moon and the ‘Curse of the Allenbys.’ Rey endeavored to ignore her, despite the fact that her cousin seemed to be actively seeking her out.

It had to be her cousin’s influence, and perhaps a bit of worry over the fact that there had been no word or gift from Ben that day, that resulted in the return of the nightmares and muddy footprints from Rey’s window to the bed. Her nightgown had survived this time, at least, and there were no cuts or scratches so she must not have fallen. The mud had mostly come off on the rug rather than her sheets.

The Times was late that day, and Aunt Phasma was cross and extra-unpleasant without the news to distract her over the breakfast table.

Two gifts and a note from Ben were delivered just after ten, the courier apologizing profusely for missing a delivery the previous day.

Then at luncheon Aunt Phasma brandished the newspaper with something like glee. “It’s happened again, and it was _not_ an animal attack.”

Rey blinked at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, Aunt Phasma, what’s happened again?”

“Another attack, girl, pay attention! A man walking along the lane a few blocks from here. He survived long enough to tell the person who found him that it was a _woman!_ ‘She’s done me in,’ he said, and then died there in the street!”

Again, her aunt sounded positively thrilled. Rey felt sick.

“That’s…it’s terrible,” Rey said, “Poor soul.”

“It seems fortunate we know we were all home, tucked safely into our beds all night,” Bazine said, glancing at Rey with a small smile. “Imagine the trouble if one of us were to walk in our sleep.”

Rey sat up straight, hoping to cover her jump of surprise. “If you’ll excuse me, I seem to have lost my appetite,” she said, leaving the room without another word.

Bazine sought her out again, tracking her down in the library, the back garden, even going so far as to follow her into the kitchen at one point. Sometimes she didn’t even speak, just made a great show of watching Rey’s every move, particularly in the hallways or when one of the servants brought a tea tray to them in the parlor. In the library, Bazine picked up a silver letter opener, crossing the room and putting it in a desk drawer. “Sharp. It simply wouldn’t do to have someone get cut,” she mused, then swept from the room looking quite pleased with herself. In the garden she made sure to mention that the gardener’s hand fork had never turned up, even though all his other tools had been in his basket. “Worrisome, don’t you think? Those are quite sharp. I suspect a wound would look rather like claw marks.” She’d gone back inside by the time Rey looked up. When she found Rey in the kitchens, she had simply looked around and clucked her tongue. “Unfortunate, you know, how so many of the Allenbys went mad before they were four and twenty. Especially the heirs. Perhaps it can be attributed to the pressure.” She paused, looked at Rey with a wicked smile. “I suppose I should be glad you turned up at long last. Perhaps now the curse will just skip over me.”

There were nightmares again that night, but no sign of sleepwalking, and no more attacks were reported.

Another week passed in much the same fashion, Rey spending her days missing Ben and worrying, her nights restlessly fighting nightmares she couldn’t remember upon waking.

The day before Ben was to return, Rey took to her bed again, unable to even walk to the breakfast room without feeling weak and light-headed.

Four weeks since the first attack, two since the most recent…

Ben arrived back in town that evening and sent his apologies with another glorious bundle of purple flowers.

The nightmares were horrifically clear that night, filled with howls of rage and the rending of flesh under claws and teeth, and soft dark fur, silvered in the light of the moon. Rey wasn’t even shocked to wake covered in dirt and bloodied at the knees again. She learned quickly that there had been yet another attack. Two men had been killed this time, across the street from the house.

Ben arrived before Inspector Hux, closing himself and Rey in the library. She tried, she really did. She told him she couldn’t marry him, that it wasn’t possible. He simply refused to hear it, confusion turning to understanding when she slipped up and mentioned the curse.

“You didn’t have anything to do with this, sweetheart.” She braced herself, expecting him to tell her she was being silly and curses weren’t real. “It wasn’t a werewolf that did this. Just a human.”

She gaped at him and his face paled.

“You don’t remember, do you?” She almost couldn’t make out the words, so softly whispered.

She stared, unable to form even a thought, never mind speaking. Ben stood, pacing the room and running a hand through his hair before he returned to her and knelt on the floor, taking her hands in both of his. “Rey, sweetheart, I don’t know who is responsible for this, but it wasn’t you. I know it wasn’t, because…Rey, when the attacks a month ago happened, and again last night…you were with me.”

She woke up what he assured her was only a few minutes later. “Oh, Ben, darling, I had the strangest dream. You implied I was a werewolf and then said I was with you last night when those poor men were murdered. Isn’t that the silliest thing?”

He stared at her, sad and serious.

“Ben?”

He didn’t even blink.

“Ben, say something. Tell me I’m silly. Tell me I imagined things.”

He glanced down at their hands and sighed.

“Ben, you’re scaring me.”

When he looked back up at her she jerked away with a scream, curling into a ball in her chair. His eyes were… _wrong_.

Pieces of memory came back.

_A wolf’s eyes in a human face._

_A tall, broad body bending double, contorting with cracks and pops and moans of pain that changed into a low whine, growing louder. Dark fur springing out, and a canine face raising to the sky, a howl of joy greeting the moon._

_Waiting, tongue lolling out almost as if smiling._

_And she was running, nightgown billowing behind, her own laughter trailing, slowly replaced by pained groaning, a body reshaping itself in the silvered light. Her own euphoric howling as she was finally, blessedly free._

_Stumbling in her steps, tangled in the fabric of the nightgown until there were teeth in the back of her neck, holding her still as razor sharp claws tore it away._

_Running, chasing rabbits in the park._

_Drinking from the fountain._

_Teeth at the back of her neck again, holding her in place and…_

_Oh…_

_Mating…there in the moonlight, and again as humans with dawn streaking across the sky._

No wonder she was always so sore when she woke. Her face flamed as she looked anywhere but at Ben.

Rey gasped and reached out, trailing her fingers over his face, tracing his scars. “It was Luke, wasn’t it? That night in Wales?”

Ben nodded, seemingly unable to speak for a moment. “Yes. He’s…well, not all of us are able to completely change, or stay in control of our minds.”

A servant interrupted with a light knock, carrying in a tea tray. Rey was suddenly famished in her relief, and Ben muttered something about rabbits not being very filling before they practically attacked the cakes and sandwiches, washing them down with the weak, bitter tea Aunt Phasma preferred.

Almost immediately, Rey began to feel sleepy. “I believe I’ve eaten too much, and too quickly,” she muttered. “I feel almost as if I’ve been drugged.”

“Oh, you have.”

“Aunt Phasma? I didn’t even hear you come into the room.”

“Oh, I know, girl.” Rey blinked and her aunt was closer. “I know _lots_ of things.” There was movement behind Phasma. Rey squinted. Bazine…and Inspector Hux?

What were they holding?

“Silver,” Bazine said, holding up the letter opener she had tucked away in a drawer the previous day. “Pretty, isn’t it?” She stepped closer. “And deadly in a skilled hand.”

“And your cousin is very skilled,” Inspector Hux said.

“So sad, really,” Aunt Phasma said, leaning down in front of Rey. She had a gardening hand fork, the one missing from the gardener’s tool basket. “How poor Lady Margerey succumbed to the Curse of the Allenbys,” she continued. “She went mad from the pressure, believed she was some sort of wolf creature and murdered several men, ending with her poor fiancé.”

Rey blinked, struggling to stay awake, needing to argue and fight.

_Protect._

“It’s fortunate, that Inspector Hux figured it out, just in time to save her poor, defenseless aunt and cousin,” Bazine said, dragging the tip of the letter opener down the side of Ben’s face where he was slumped against the front of Rey’s chair, barely conscious. “I’ll inherit, of course, and wed my savior.” She pressed harder, drawing blood.

Rey’s rage grew as she watched the red bead grow and slide down the side of Ben’s face, over the curve of his jaw and to his neck.

_Save._

She surged to her feet, the drugs just suddenly no longer affecting her. One hand shot out, punching her cousin, and Rey felt a feral smile curve her lips at the crunch of bone as she broke Bazine’s nose. The other hand grasped Aunt Phasma’s wrist and twisted, the gardening fork landing at their feet with a thump and a clattering scratch of the tines across the glossy hardwood floor.

“That will be quite enough, I think,” Inspector Hux said, brandishing the pistol he must have kept in his coat. Rey froze. It was pointed at Ben’s head. She didn’t know if it would kill him but she didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, I quite agree.”

Hux spun around at the voice, coming face to face with Viscount Skywalker and a short woman whom Rey somehow _knew_ was Ben’s mother.

“You’re late,” Ben muttered, groaning as he tried to stand.

“And you were supposed to be in the study,” Luke said. “This is the library.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the rescue, but what are you doing here?” Rey demanded.

“Saving you, dear,” Ben’s mother said.

After that there was a whirlwind of activity as more police came through the house, taking Bazine, Aunt Phasma, and Inspector Hux away.

The three had been working together for months, ever since the solicitors had informed Phasma that Rey had been located. They had planned on driving Rey mad, convincing her she had committed a string of murders, and having her locked away so that Bazine would still inherit, and they could retain the Allenby estate and all associated lands and properties.

“It’s sad, really, that they wasted all that effort,” Rey commented. “I would have happily given it all to them and gone home.”

“I know you would, sweetheart,” Ben said, brushing a kiss over her forehead and making her blush, embarrassed that he had done so in front of his mother and uncle. He laughed, and tilted her chin up, kissing her lips despite her protests. “Now, about going home, it’s a bit late today, but what do you say we leave tomorrow?”

**~*~Six Months Later, Skywalker Estate, Wales~*~**

It was cold, but unusually clear, as the moon painted silver shadows over the grounds.

Joyous yips and howls echoed, occasionally punctuated by the strange sounds of wolf growls fighting their way from a throat that was still half-human.

Leia Organa-Solo sipped at the dregs of her tea before placing the cup delicately back on the saucer and grinning at Maz. “You were right.”

“I know,” the older woman said with a nod. “I always am.”

The pair turned to the window, watching as two fully shifted werewolves played tag around Luke’s half-form, occasionally darting in close to him with a playful growl.

“The curses of the Allenby and Skywalker families didn’t turn out so badly,” Leia commented. “Should we tell them about the little gift passed along through her father’s bloodline?”

Maz shrugged, pouring herself another cup of tea, grinning as she tipped in the contents of a silver flask. “No need yet,” she muttered. “That one skips a generation.”

Leia snatched at the flask.

“This is mine, get your own,” Maz said, before the pair dissolved into laughter.

Come morning, the pair were passed out in front of the fire, two empty flasks and what remained of a bottle of good brandy between them. Luke stared at the mess and shook his head. “Too tired for this, going to bed.” Rey watched him go, then turned back to her mother-in-law and the only mother Rey had ever known, smiling as her husband gently slipped pillows under their heads and covered them with a blanket before throwing a log on the fire.

Once done he turned, giving her the devilish look she had come to greatly appreciate.

Her laughter echoed behind them as he scooped her into his arms and carried her to their suite in the opposite wing of the house.

A wolf’s eyes in a human face.

Not so much a curse after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely veered away from the original inspirations at the end there. They needed a happy ending.

**Author's Note:**

> This story might be it for the Monstrous series. Maybe? I still have a lot of playlist left, and it's only the middle of the month, so who knows. Any classic movie monsters you'd like to see me pay tribute to? I thought about The Mummy or maybe Gill-man (Creature from the Black Lagoon) but I have no concrete ideas or inspiration for those. Heck, maybe I could try Attack of the Killer Tomatoes...maybe Rey and Ben can be sentient and murderous pizza sauce and ketchup...or maybe not.


End file.
